The First
by Ashley A
Summary: Take the "Curse, What Curse?" idea, and you have Buffy, Angel, and their first time. Bad things follow.


A/N:  pretty much A/U.  Taking the curse, what curse?  Idea and running with it.  No curse, no Judge, no Spike and Dru.  Just Angel, Buffy, and their first time.  Bad stuff follows.

Warning!!! Major character death.

Feedback:  it does a body good.

Disclaimer:  same as before.  Joss and ME own the universe; I just play here.

Thanks to Don Henley for the inspiration.

Enjoy!

            The rain still lashes the treetops and roofs outside.  I press my face to the cool glass and watch it pour down my windows, just resting.  Not taking in anything.  Not moving, not making the motion of breathing like I normally do just to pass among the humans.  Since there is no one here but me, there's no reason for me to try to pass, anyway.

            She's gone for the day, wanting to at least put in an appearance at school, so there won't be too many questions from her friends, or teachers.  If she didn't have school, I really don't think we would have ever gotten out of bed.

            I sigh gently, soft air pushing against the glass, as I remember the previous night, and all the implications that have risen because of it.  I've been trying all day to think of what I'll say to her when she returns, but I'm honestly still not beyond, "I love you."  Which I guess is not a bad thing.  Or is it? 

            I push my hand through her hair, and she trembles at my touch.  Closing her eyes, she raises her own hand and cups my cheek, lightly rubbing her thumb over my eyebrows.  It sounds silly, but even this simple touch makes my blood sing.  Our eyes meet, and we know there's no going back to the way it was.  No going back to before, when it was innocent flirting and stolen kisses inbetween bouts of serious demon ass kicking.  I drink her in, and she leans toward me as though there is a string connecting us.  Our lips meet, and the World dissappears except for her shining face, and the feel of her lips on mine.

            I know there is no way I'm going to stop now.  I break away from her, and she opens her eyes, confused.  

            "Angel?" she whispers, not sure what's happening.  

            "Buffy, maybe we shouldn't…" I choke out, and before I can say anything else, she's in my lap, all around me, tugging at my shirt, yanking it over my head.  I search out her eyes again with my own, and she answers finally.

            "Don't  talk.  Just kiss me."

            How can I not oblige?

            So I kiss her, and she smiles into my mouth, and wraps her arms around my naked torso.  I raise shaking hands to unbutton her cardigan, and she's suddenly shy.  But not reticent.  I pull her pink sweater off and fling it to the ground, where it rests with my own hastily shed shirt.  I stop to look at her, and realize this is a first for her.

            Not that I couldn't tell.  But I also realize in this moment what a big deal it is for her to trust me this much.  And I adore her all the more for it.

            She sits hesitantly facing me, clad in her bra and jeans.  I move her over onto the bed itself, and lay her gently down, hoping to get her to let go.  She smiles bravely at me, but I can tell she's scared.  Hell, I'm scared too.  Scared that I'll hurt her.  Scared that it won't be what she wants or needs.  But if we love each other as much as it seems we do, it'll be what it's supposed to be for both of us.

            I slowly approach and sit on the edge of the bed with her, and touch her face softly with the tips of my fingers.

            "Relax.  I love you,"  I tell her.  She nods, and takes my hand in hers, saying what I wanted to hear from her.

            "I love you too, Angel."

            And she lets her hands fall to her sides, trusting me to do what is right.

            I lower my head to her chest and kiss the tops of her covered breasts one by one, and am gratified to hear a small gasp of surprise, then pleasure.  I smile at this, but don't let her see it.

            I unbutton her jeans and slide them off her hips, and she lifts her butt off the bed, eager to help.  These also end up flung unceremoniously to the floor.

            She is shaking slightly, and I grasp that she's embarrassed.  So I drop my own pants to the floor in our heap of clothing, and sit back down next to her.  I take her hand to my lips and kiss it, then lay next her and just take her in my arms, to try and quell the shaking that now seems uncontrollable.

            She laughs a bit harshly, and I look at her in surprise.

            "I'm sorry.  I thought I wouldn't be such a baby, but…"

            I kiss her, silencing her.  "Don't be sorry, Buffy.  I'm beyond touched that you trust me this much to be with you.  Just relax.  Be here with me.  You're safe.  And loved.  And that's all that matters now."

            She buries her head in my chest, nodding so I can feel it.

            I tilt her chin up to face me, and touch my lips to hers.  Gently at first, the perfect gentleman.  Til that fire she always causes begins to rear its head, and we're suddenly all over each other, legs and arms tangled together, my necklace wrapped around her bicep somehow, and we're so close it's like she's part of me and I'm part of her.  Our mouths open and our tongues meet, and she tastes like honey and wildfire.

            Her nails run furrows up my back, and I growl at her, not sure whether it's passion or the natural response from my demon.  I push him back down the minute I feel his presence, and my growl turns to a purr of pleasure, and she actually looks shocked at the noise that rumbles out of my throat.  

            "God, Angel, make that noise again."

            Laughing softly, I nuzzle her neck, and the noise comes again unbidden.  This time it's her that makes it.

            She suddenly grabs me by the back of the neck and pulls my face back to hers, her lips claiming mine with such force I'm sure they'll be bruised in the morning.  We drown in each other, the only sound our ragged breathing.

            I fumble at the small clasp in the middle of her back, and the tiny piece of nylon springs free, and finally we're together, skin to skin, the way it should be.  She sighs, her eyes closing and mouth opening, and it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.  I kiss her eyes, her forehead, her chin, then tilt my head lower.

            If the sounds coming out of Buffy's mouth are any indication, I haven't lost my touch.  

            I've certainly been around, although with her it's…different.  So different it almost defies description.

            I don't want to sound like a cheezy hallmark card and wax poetic, but this woman, this time, her first, feels like mine as well.  It might as well be.

            In all my 240 plus years, I've loved exactly one woman.  It's the reason for my current state of bliss.  And God knows it's been a long time for me to feel this happy.  I don't know what I did to deserve her, but I'm going to make damn sure she knows how much she means to me.

            I pay a lot of attention to her breasts, and I know from experience this is generally a good thing.  My love breathes heavily against the top of my head, and tangles her fingers in my hair, pulling me closer to her.  I'm so happy I could literally sing.  Except I don't think that would be the right response now.

            She's trembling again, and I stop kissing her, meeting her eyes quizzically with my own.

            "Love, are you alright?" I ask.

            Tears start to leak from her eyes when I say this.  "Buffy, what's wrong?  Did I hurt you?"

            She places her small warm hand against my chest, forcing me to look straight at her.

            "I've never felt…_anything_…like this before, Angel.  It's like I can't breath when you're not touching me," she says, and runs her hands almost reverently down my chest, where they rest on my hips.  

            Now it's my turn to shake.

            I turn to the bedside table, where the one small lamp is still lit.  I snap it off, and turn back to her.

            "I won't ever stop, I promise you that," I tell her, and we fall to the bed together.

            There is no more talking that night.

            The sun has set, and yet the rain hasn't stopped crashing from the sky.  I wonder where she is now, and if she'll come to me tonight like she said she would.  She had run out on me quickly this morning, and as I tried to kiss her goodbye, she had pulled away, mumbling something about getting to class, and then she was gone.

            I finally walk away from the windows, realizing I am actually hungry.  I yank open the fridge door, and throw a few packets of pigs blood on the counter.

            Sipping my now microwaved dinner, I drop into the large velvet covered chair in the small den, and turn on the radio.  I don't own a television.  No point, considering the only time I would watch it would be during the day, and we all know what kind of crap is on then.  

            Some quick talking announcer is yelling in the background about a no hitter going at Dodger stadium, and I close my eyes, sip my blood, listen to the drone of baseball, and wait for Buffy to return.

            I start awake with a jolt, and notice I have dropped my mug onto the tile floor, shattering it in the process.  I stand, embarrassed to have fallen asleep so easily, and as I move to the kitchen to get a rag, something tugs at my heart.  A feeling I have learned not to ignore.

             I grab my leather duster and hit the door, blood mess forgotten.

            As I run pell mell toward Restfield cemetary, a small voice inside my head urges me _get to her get to her NOW!!_

            I'm coming, Buffy, I'm coming, please be all right, please God, please don't let her be hurt.

I leap the gates that have been locked for the night.  I head toward the noise I hear in the distance, which sounds like cursing and sobbing.  What the hell is going on?

            The rain pounds in my eyes, and I swipe a hand over them, pulling up into a skidding stop at the base of a huge oak tree.

            Her friends are there.

            Xander's head hangs, and his arm is held against his chest at a funny angle, and I can tell right away it's been broken.

            Willow is the one I had heard the sobbing from.  She is crumpled on the grass, wailing at the sky, and holding something in her lap.  Something that is golden and sparkling…

            I sink to my knees next to Willow, and and cradle my love's body in my arms.  Her eyes flutter weakly open, and as she looks into my face, a brillant but small smile breaks out upon her lips.

            "Angel.  I knew you'd come.  I called for you.  Did you hear me from all this way?"  she reaches a hand out to me, and I take it in my own, bringing it to my lips as tears begin to mingle with the damnable raindrops in my face.

            "Of course I did, sweetheart.  I'll always come for you,"  I pull her gently into my lap, and she winces as I touch her, and my heart cries out at the look in her eyes.

            I cradle her like a baby, and meet Willow's gaze over Buffy's head.

            "What. The.  Hell.  Happened."

            Willow gives a short sob, then claps her hand over her mouth, not wanting to upset me or Buffy further.  Too late.

            "Powerful magic.  Big demon.  We were too late to help her," comes the stiff reply from Xander.  "Had a very large axe, and was really fast.  It's dead now."

            I notice the wet feeling on my arm around Buffy's shoulders is warm, unlike the cold rain.  I raise my hand into the light from the moon, and what feeling there was in me slowly drains away as the deep crimson colored liquid on my hand begins to run to the ground, washed off by the rain.

            I raise her gently up, and risk a peak at the back of her head.

            Slayer strength and healing is amazing.  

            But not amazing enough for what was done to the back of Buffy's skull.

            "Go," I say softly, dangerously to Willow and Xander, who look at me as if I've gone crazy.

            "Angel, what," starts Willow, and I below at her with all the strength I can muster, my demon emerging with my anger.

            "GO!!!  GET GILES!  NOW!"

            They scramble away hastily, and I hear Willow telling Xander, "We've got to hurry," as they scurry away, finally leaving me and my love alone.

            I sit in silence with her, rubbing her back and arms as I watch the life and vitality slowly drain out of her beautiful face.  

            I know there is nothing I can do now but be with her.

            "Angel," she says breathily, after some time of silence, the only sound being my quiet sobs.

            "Don't talk love, help is on the way," I tell her desperately, pleading with whatever gods that were listening to make Giles and the ambulance hurry the hell up.

"Not quick enough," she burbles, and a small trickle of blood leaks down her chin.  I try to shift her into a more comfortable position, and she groans with the pain.  

            "Buffy, I'm so sorry, just try to relax.  You're going to be fine," I babble at her, knowing my lies aren't helping her or me right now.

            "Angel…love you…" she whispers.  My face cracks, and the tears pour in earnest, even as the rain has finally begun to slow.

            "Buffy, God, I love you.  Please don't leave me.  I can't make it without you here.  There's no reason to," I gasp out, and with the remaining bit of her strength, she grabs my face and forces me to look into her eyes.

            "You have to.  You have to for me.  You have to look after them.  Please Angel, don't  make this any harder than it is already.  Promise me you'll look after them."

            I stroke her face gently, and answer her.  "For you.  I will."

            She smiles up at me suddenly, and my heart swells with pain and a love so intense I fear it may burst.

            "You were my first.  My only.  Always, you hear me?  Always, Angel.  My life was worth it just to have you in it," my love tells me, and in that moment I know that no matter how difficult, how ridiculous it would be to go on without her, I will.  I'll watch over her little family, and take care of them like I promised her.

            Because she's my first too.  My only.  My always.

            I hear the sounds of wailing sirens in the distance, and as the rain finally stops, the life essence of the girl that showed me that life was worth living slips away, and my soul slips away with her.  

            I stay sprawled on the ground, cradling her limp body next to mine, as paramedics and firemen surround us, the only sound I hear the drip, drip, drip of falling rain, and the shattering of my heart.


End file.
